Lost and Found
by ntbos
Summary: In the midst of packing up her apartment, Kate finds an unexpected surprise. One-Shot. Post-Watershed if you want it to be; also works as a stand-alone.


Summary: In the midst of packing up her apartment, Kate finds an unexpected surprise.

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine; I'm just borrowing them for a while.

"I'm gonna take this box and start on your desk," Castle snagged one of the empty cardboard packing boxes from the foot of her bed and headed out of her bedroom.

"Be careful not to lose anything," Kate called after him, sticking her head out of her closet. He made no reply and she rolled her eyes. All the important stuff was in the safe, anyway. Tugging another blouse off its hanger, she folded it neatly and tucked it on top of a box she'd marked "DONATE" in her no-nonsense, Precinct script. All of her favorites were already at Castle's—_their_— loft; her armoire was completely empty before they'd even started packing that morning. Her favorite knick-knacks, linens, and other miscellaneous items were being boxed up to be loaded into a small U-Haul scheduled to arrive later that evening, along with a piece or two of her favorite furniture. Castle had handled all of her items with care, asking questions about her more exotic pieces of artwork or interesting souvenirs; it was cute, but it seriously hindered his – and her— packing efficiency when he demanded "the story" behind each item before he wrapped it in newspaper and tucked it into a box.

He'd been working in the kitchen for the last half hour (pots and pans are a lot more non-descript) and it'd given her the chance to go through her closet. A few pairs of her old jeans and t-shirts she couldn't bear to throw out or give away, so she'd placed them in a box to send to the loft. As Kate made her way to the back of the closet, she felt like she was going backwards in time through her outfits; this blouse was her favorite a couple years ago, that one still had a yellowish tint from when Castle slammed into her with two cups of coffee, this was the dress she wore to Castle's book reading, and oh god, did she really have _three_ of those boatneck tees in varying colors? She was such the stereotypical female cop back then; no prints, no frills, only slacks, a button down, and of course, her heels.

Her closet was beginning to empty out. She'd filled another donate box with vertically striped button downs and plain sweaters along with a few scarves she knew she'd never wear again but hated to let go. As she knelt down to go through her shoes, an old banker's box caught her eye. It was tucked into the back corner, hidden behind a pair of snow boots and an old messenger bag. Pushing the rest of her belongings out of the way, she dragged the box forward until it aligned with her knees.

The lid was caved in, but she recognized the larger, loopier handwriting of her younger self in the simple "Mom's Things" scrawled in magic marker on the top. Kate ran her finger along the letters, picking up quite a bit of dust in the process, before lifting the lid. One of Castle's first novels lay on top, a small, chunky paperback that her mother probably bought at the drugstore. Its cover was worn, and it looked like one corner had been splashed with coffee; the pages were wrinkled and yellow. Kate thumbed through it, biting her lip against any unwarranted tears. Swallowing, she set it beside her and turned back to the box. There were a few other novels stacked neatly, one collection of 19th Century British Poetry. She stacked those on her other side and kept digging. Her mother's collection of Katharine Hepburn movies was next, the cardboard sleeves on the VHS tapes well-worn, some of them torn. There were at least ten of them lined up along the bottom right side of the box. Kate tugged _The Philadelphia Story_ out of its place, gently straightening out a tear in the sleeve. Her mother was nothing if not a Katharine Hepburn fan; there were other, nicer copies still on Jim Beckett's bookshelf, but these were _old_. Stacking a few tapes on top of Castle's paperback, she went back to the almost-empty box.

"Hey, Kate, do you have any important papers in the safe that you- Hey, what's this?" Castle appeared in the bedroom doorway with a file folder in his hand. "I thought we were supposed to be putting everything _in _the boxes, not taking them _out_."

Kate turned around, gave him a shaky laugh. "I guess I got a little carried away. I haven't seen this stuff in ages, Castle. These were some of my mom's things I must have boxed up after she died."

Castle set the file folder on her dresser and moved over to kneel down next to her, steadying himself with a hand on her shoulder that he gently slid to her back as he settled. Kate handed him a cassette tape from the box. It was missing its plastic box and paper jacket, and the title was worn but legible. "Your mom liked Coltrane, too?" he asked with a smile.

"Mm-hmm." Kate handed him another couple tapes that were also missing their packaging. "She loved music in general. She'd listen to everything."

"I can see that." Castle shuffled through the tapes, "Chicago, Billy Joel, Michael Jackson, The Eagles, Reba MacIntire…"

"Some of those records I have out in my dining room were hers, too."

"Wow, your mom liked English poetry?" Castle reached for the anthology. Kate smiled. "Her taste in literature was a lot like her taste in music. She'd read whatever you placed in front of her. But she loved mysteries and anything from the British Romantic period."

"That is so cool," Castle whispered as he leafed through, pausing occasionally to skim a few poems. Kate felt an overwhelming fountain of emotions welling inside her; the sight of Castle holding her mom's most well-worn and well-loved items with such reverence caused tears to pool behind her eyes and her heart to swell with so much love, for her mother and especially for the man kneeling beside her.

Kneeling. God, he probably shouldn't be doing that, what with the skiing accident… She nudged her shoulder into his. "What'd you come in here to ask me?"

"Right," he set the poetry down and got to his feet, his knees protesting with a loud crack. "I found a few extra file folders in your desk and wondered if you wanted me to gather any important papers you might have in the safe."

"That's a good idea. Let me get you the-"

"Kate. I know the combination." Castle's eyes sparkled with laughter as she gave him the eyebrow. "Come on. It's your parents' anniversary."

She tried to look angry, but a smile creeped its way onto Kate's face. She leaned back onto her heels, knocking the stack of VHS tapes over as she did. Castle bent over to help re-stack them and paused abruptly at the sight of one of his very first novels.

"I… Kate, what is this?" His hand slowly reached for the worn paperback, almost as if he was afraid to touch it. He smoothed the cover and thumbed the coffee-stained corner. "Is this yours?"

Kate shook her head. "It came from the box. I told you, my mom loved mysteries."

"Wow. I- wow."

For once, her writer-man was speechless. Kate reached out and curled her hand around his calf. He glanced down at her, wonder and awe shining in his eyes. Her face split into a grin as she squeezed his leg gently.

"Come on, Castle. I'll pack all this stuff back up and you go get the papers from my safe. I think we're close to being done here."

He handed her the paperback and swallowed gruffly. "I think you're right. And hey, when we're done, we can go home and have a movie night. I think I still have my VCR somewhere."

Kate smiled again, reaching out to tap one of the VHS tapes. "That sounds perfect."


End file.
